The Wedding Day

Chapter 5

Elena POV

The morning of the wedding arrived like a storm I couldn’t outrun.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the luxury hotel suite Damien had booked for me. 

I stood in front of the full length mirror, my hands trembling as I smoothed down the expensive white gown. The fabric hugged my curves tightly clinging to my full breasts, flowing over my soft belly, and accentuating my wide hips and thick thighs. The dress was beautiful, elegant, and daringly fitted. It made me look like a woman who belonged on the arm of a billionaire.

But inside, I felt like a fraud.

My chubby cheeks were flushed. I turned side to side, studying every soft inch of my body. The lace details on the body pushed my breasts up, creating deep cleavage. The silky material flowed over my round ass and thick thighs. I looked sensual. Feminine. But the voice in my head whispered the same doubts Sophia Kane had planted that I wasn’t the “right image” for the Kane family. That I was too soft. Too curvy. Too much.

A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

Lila stepped inside carrying a small bouquet. Her sassy energy filled the room immediately.

“Girl, look at you!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “You look stunning. Those curves are serving. Damien is going to lose his mind when he sees you walking down that aisle.”

I forced a smile, turning back to the mirror. “You think so? I feel like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life.”

Lila came to stand beside me. She adjusted one of the straps on my dress. “I know so. But tell me the truth. How are you really feeling? This whole thing happened so fast. 

One day you’re his secretary, the next you’re marrying the man you’ve been secretly in love with for years. That’s a lot.”

I turned away from the mirror. The truth sat heavy in my chest. I wanted to tell her everything. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’m happy,” I said instead. “Nervous, but happy.”

The ceremony was held in a lavish private garden overlooking the city. White flowers lined the aisle. Elegant chairs were filled with important guests. My heart pounded as I walked down the aisle on my father’s arm. Dad looked proud but worried.

Damien waited at the end of the aisle. He looked devastating in his black tuxedo. His eyes locked on me the moment I appeared. They darkened with hunger as they traveled slowly over my body, my cleavage, my hips, my curves. For a moment, the world faded. It felt real.

Damien’s POV

Elena looked breathtaking walking down the aisle. The white gown hugged every lush curve her full breasts, soft belly, wide hips. She was nothing like the thin women I used to chase. She was real. Soft. Mine. The contract started as a solution. Now, watching her walk toward me, it felt like something more. Something dangerous.

I took her hands. My voice was steady as I spoke my vows.

“Elena, from the moment you walked into my life four years ago, you became the one person I could always count on. You saw me at my worst and never turned away. Today, I promise to protect you, to cherish you, and to build a future with you. You are my wife, my partner, and the only woman I want by my side.”

Elena’s POV

Damien’s vows hit me hard. Tears stung my eyes. I took a shaky breath and spoke my own vow.

“Damien, you have been my world for four years. I have loved you in silence, through every storm and every late night. Today, I promise to stand beside you, to support you, and to love you with all my heart. You are my husband, and I am yours.”

We exchanged rings. The cool metal slid onto my finger like a seal on my fate. Then the officiant said the words.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Damien pulled me close. His hand cupped the back of my neck. His lips claimed mine in a kiss that was hungry and possessive. His other hand rested on my soft waist, pulling my curvy body against him. The guests clapped, but all I could feel was him. The heat. The need. The confusing mix of love and fear swirling inside me.

Damien’s POV

Kissing Elena felt different. Her soft body pressed against me. Her full breasts, her plush hips. She tasted sweet. Real. For the first time in years, the emptiness inside me felt a little less empty. She was mine. Contract or not.

Elena’s POV

The reception was extravagant. Champagne flowed. Music played. Damien kept me close the entire night. His hand rarely left my waist or hip. He introduced me as his wife to everyone. His eyes never left me for long. But every time I saw a model or socialite watching us with envy, the doubt crept back in. Was this real? Or was I just the convenient solution?

Later that night, the driver took us back to the penthouse. The ride was quiet. Damien’s hand never left my thigh. When we stepped inside, rose petals were scattered on the floor. Soft lighting glowed. A bottle of champagne chilled on the table.

Damien turned to me slowly. “You were breathtaking today,” he said, voice low. He stepped closer. His hands settled on my wide hips. “Every man there was jealous. And I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you alone. About peeling this dress off these curves and worshipping every soft inch of you.”

He kissed me again. Deeper this time. His hands roamed over my body squeezing my soft belly, gripping my thick thighs, cupping my full breasts. I moaned into his mouth. My hands clutched his shirt.

But even as desire flooded me, the internal voice whispered: This is temporary. One year. Don’t fall too deep.

Damien pulled back slightly. His eyes burned into mine. “You’re mine now, Elena. My wife.”

The words sent a shiver through me. I wanted to believe him. I wanted this to be real.

As Damien’s hands explored my body with growing hunger, his phone vibrated on the nightstand. A message from one of his slut flashed on the screen. And for the first time as his wife, I wondered how long “mine” would really last.